Do you remember how old you were when, on your own, with no encouragement or instruction from a parent or anyone else, you spent your own hard-earned money to buy someone you love a gift?
I was on the receiving end of this treasure last night. Buck, too, when in a quiet moment of a family Christmas Eve supper, she stole us away to give her gifts in the privacy of my dimly lit study. She knows how much I enjoy my morning coffee. The mug with my initial is the only one I’ll use from now on. And for her granddad, there were two framed 4×6 photos of the two of them together. Oh, Buck melted. It was a moment. A demonstrative gesture of love — not dutiful filial devotion — from a grown granddaughter to a grandfather, is rare, dazzling and unforgettable. I love her even more for this.
I’m thinking about this young woman as I savor fresh hot coffee in my new cup, and how she has separated herself from the pack in so many excellent ways. She has a big heart and she’s not afraid to use it. I have come to believe that she also has a wise old soul. Her mom called her “Buddha baby” when she was an infant.
You’re a gift, Andie girl.